The Future of Nothing
by Fahrenaut
Summary: A random, or not so random collection of SolxHolly drabbles. Rated T to be safe, although there probably will not be anything too dramatic in here.
1. Two Types of Black

**Disclaimer:** _Warriors_ belongs to _Erin Hunter_. The characters do not belong to me.

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**Two Types of Black**

Morning glories were so _black_. Sure, they had purple and pink hearts, and even sometimes they would have lovely blue throats that copied the twilight, but they were still so _black_. Most certainly they weren't vibrant; they were _dark_. They were nothing like the rain drops that beaded their petals and slid down their stems. They did not replicate the alabaster clouds and pallid sunshine on a foggy day. They held no other look than of gloomy mourning.

They were born in the morning to only wilt and curl by midday. Then all the flowers would die just to be reincarnated once more in another bud. It was a constant cycle of rebirth; it was a symbol of death, not of life, for no matter what the flowers always died, even though they _did_ come back. Surely they were sad? The flowers seemed to be so. To look one in the mouth is to look upon weeping nature.

So, even though they could be as blue as the sky or as purple as the trees at dusk, they were still dull. Pale forever would they be, stuck with their _black_ color.

This is what most thought of them. They considered their cropped petals and simple bosoms to be rather depressing. They only remained for so short a time that it seemed like they were always spending their days looking malnourished. Maybe they were ashamed of their lack of beauty? Maybe they were cursed with dismal looking hearts and so kill themselves?

Did morning glories commit suicide? Was this their own fault, this _black_ look? Perhaps it was true. By chance, persay, they hated their existence. Most did not blame them if so. They were boring, short-lived, cowardly, and too _dark_ for their liking. After all, the world didn't need more _black_.

Nothing _ever needed_ more _black_. Absolutely nothing, that was for certain. Black was obsolete, for it held no purpose. The shade was harbored tentatively in the cadaver of the flower. It was nurtured in the chrysalis of her body, and for that they were both terrible.

Maybe that was it. The darkness had killed the morning glory. It was a murder, but the damage was done. One could care less, though. To them, the petals would always remain a dull sight to him; black tips, black hearts, black bosoms, black roots. They were irrevocably dead, even though they came back to life. They were lifeless, and there was nothing an alabaster morning could do to cure that.

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Sol's brown pelt barely stood out amongst the dark folds of the forest. The only thing really distinguishable were his eyes. They shined with the brilliance of the sun. Although, maybe that was just their viewer being fanciful.

Hollyleaf dug her claws into the soil, something possessing her to stay, even though she wanted to run. Her green eyes glared viciously at the tom; she felt cornered, even though she was in an open place. The other seemed unaffected, his stance the same and his expression so unbearably _placid_.

"Hollyleaf, you have found me," Sol meowed in his usual timber.

"I didn't do it on purpose," she retorted. She wished to have sounded harsh, but she only sounded empty. The black she-cat managed to take a step back, her tail twitching as if urging to lash.

"Where are the other two?" he continued, and he sounded vaguely interested. Hollyleaf supposed that their interaction, to Sol, was just a waste of time, or at least extremely boring.

"They aren't here."

Sol's ears perked up slightly at that, his angular head tilting to the side. Remaining where he was while Hollyleaf took yet another paw step back, the tom gave her a quizzical look.

"They are usually with you," the cat meowed simply. It sounded like a statement, and for that reason she found herself angered. The ThunderClan cat thought it kind of strange to be so though. She decided that she just didn't like it when Sol went around acting like he knew everything about her and her brothers.

"Not always. Only when we try to find you," she replied, trying to sound smart.

"That would explain things," Sol countered without a trace of emotion. He seemed so calm just _standing_ there. Compared to Hollyleaf, he was the master of being composed. She was bristling, her teeth half bared, and her eyes showing disgust and anxiety. Sol was just _there_.

There was a long moment of silence. Neither tried to speak. One could say they were basically staring each other down, although that was more Hollyleaf than Sol. In the quiet, she attempted a few more steps back, her black fur blending into the darkness of the night. She really had only bumped into the tortoiseshell accidentally, his earthy scent and dark pelt hiding him from her senses until it was too late.

It was then that his amber eyes seemed to catch what she was doing. Tail beginning to curl, Sol padded toward Hollyleaf; she was planted yet again to the spot, her mind racing as the space between them closed. It was like one of those dreams where one can't move. Even though danger is nearing one at full speed, they still cannot even get their limbs to cooperate with their yelling senses.

_Run away! _

"It is so dark out tonight," Sol drawled, his voice cool as he neared. It got to the point where he was only a mouselength away from Hollyleaf, and he was still talking as he stopped padding forward.

As if only making casual conversation, he continued, "The nights have gotten considerably _blacker_, if you ask me." Pausing, he then finished, "I do not like it. What is your take on it?"

Hollyleaf swallowed, her ears pressing against her skull. She kept on trying to be defiant and glare murder at the aloof tom, but found she couldn't keep her expression straight. Sol's eyes were trained on her; his deadly, amber gaze was digging into her pupils, it seemed. The green-eyed cat loathed it when he did that. It was as if he _knew_ that she could not look him in the eye without faltering.

"They are the same," she answered in an annoyed way, as if dealing with a dull-witted kit that wouldn't stop asking questions. Averting her gaze to the ground, she stiffened when she felt warm breath tickle her whiskers. Sol was so close that Hollyleaf could lean forward only a little bit and bump noses with him.

"Are you content with that?" he meowed.

"Yeah. Sure," Hollyleaf replied quickly, fearing the loss of her self-control. She was most certainly _not_ being tempted by his proximity. _Not at all_. Feeling confused and uncomfortable, she still kept her eyes on the forest floor. Desperately wanting to duck her head, she suppressed the want, knowing it wouldn't help her.

"I don't think you are. But..." he apparently was anaylzing her, his breath short and subdued. He also seemed unaffected by the she-cat's nervousness; he probably didn't even care.

"You are black. You are like the night." Sol motioned toward her fur with his nose, touching it briefly before withdrawing only a hairsbreadth. "You are the color, not the essense."

Hollyleaf could feel his amber eyes staring at her. It was like they were tearing her apart, and she couldn't take it. Her legs were burning with the desire to bolt, but her heart wouldn't allow her to.

"Don't be the essense," Sol told her, and Hollyleaf could swear that he was begging her, but it could easily have been her imagination. "You are so close..."

The last part sounded like a half-finished thought, trailing off almost appropriately on Sol's tongue. Wishing to question him, she was dismayed to find her voice gone and her throat feeling hoarse. After another moment's silence, Hollyleaf broke it.

"The essense is bad," she meowed softly, not wanting her mew to crack. Also, she had originally meant it as a question, but had found it more suitable to only state it.

"Yes."

Paws finally acting on their own, she backed away carefully. Something compelled her to leave now more than ever, and she couldn't fight it. Green eyes rose to meet amber ones, but Hollyleaf broke the gaze with a jerk of her head.

"I can't stop you, though," Sol meowed. For the first time, he sounded defeated, although it was barely noticeable in his serious voice. The cat opposite him stared at him, confused.

Not really knowing what to say in response, Hollyleaf awkwardly turned around to go home. As she slowly slipped back into the protective darkness of the forest where no moonlight could reach, she remained fully aware of the gaze that stayed locked on her disappearing form.

"Goodbye, Hollyleaf."

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**A/N: **For the small amount actually waiting for an update on _Rehabilitation_, I AM SORRY.

I _am_ working on it, don't worry. It's just that muse has been escaping me lately for that thing, along with my other stories.

I hope this will suffice as compensation for y'all's waiting and patience.

But anyway, this was just a random thing I typed up. A _drabble_ if you will. I was humoring the idea of this maybe being a _collection_ of drabbles. SolxHolly of course, because there needs to be more of it. (IT IS TOTALLY POSSIBLE. YOU DON'T KNOOOWWW.)

It will be like a little fanfiction dump to pick up my muse for _Rehab_. ;D


	2. Look, It's the Sun

**Disclaimer:** _Warriors_ belongs to _Erin Hunter_. The characters do not belong to me.

Inspired by Secondhand Serenade's _Why_

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**Look, It's the Sun**

Pulling herself up, she scrambled to get a hold on the rock. It's slick surface made her slip and slide back into the crevice, but she kept on trying. After another grab, her paws made leverage with a drier side. With a heave and most of her upper body strength, the she-cat scrambled her way through.

Blood was clogging up in her throat, which she coughed out. It stained the stone and made her cramped environment smell putrid. All the while she was trying to breathe; her breaths were quick and pressured because of what was backing up her windpipe. She felt as if she was on the verge of a breakdown.

Scraping at rough rock, she continued to slowly push her way through large amounts of rubble. She was doing this purely with her front legs and shoulders. Her back legs and lower spine were completely useless because of a blow dealt to them earlier in the collapse. They hurt terribly whenever she moved, but she had to keep going or else risk suffocation from using up the oxygen.

Time given to survive in the small space she was in was limited. In fact, it was counting down to zero rather fast. Forced to use her teeth, she bit and shoved through more gravel and debris. Eventually, the wall in front of her tumbled down, and she was met with open air.

As if she was drowning instead of being crushed, the cat gasped for air and dragged the rest of herself out of the hole. As soon as the broken half of her body was free, she tumbled down a bit before landing hard on a solid surface, still air chilling her bones.

Taking a moment to rest, she tried to understand her surroundings. She knew she was in a cave of some sort, and that there was no light. Everything was pitch black. The gurgle of a stream could be heard from where she was, although she couldn't smell it. In fact, she could only smell and taste the iron and rust from her blood. It was terrible; at least she wasn't encased in dirt anymore, but it was still awful.

The she-cat felt her conscious slipping. Trying to fight it, she rose to her paws to only fall back down again. A piercing pain went up her spine to her head, and it made her yowl into the darkness. The black flashed into white and various other colors before it faded away. She was left panting and keening quietly. With another cough, she let herself slip away into unconsciousness.

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Unbeknownst to her, in the darkness there was another being. His amber eyes had nothing to grasp, even though his pupils were as wide as the moon. It truly was black, and he couldn't see anything in front or behind him. Staying low to the ground out of instinct, he pricked his ears in the direction of the heavy breathing. He could smell blood and heavy fear scent.

Padding forward at a steady pace, he judged when to stop by the increase in volume of the breaths as he neared. Paws touching fur, he lowered his head to sniff the black pelt that blended in so well with the dark of the underground. He determined that it was indeed who he was looking for.

Lifting his head and staring at the dark before him, he contemplated quickly how he would approach this. Suppressing an uncharacteristic sigh, he nuzzled his way under the she-cat. Bumping his shoulders to further steady her position on his back, he finally lifted his crouching body when the black feline was draped securely on top of him.

Wincing at the smell of vomit near his nose, he turned and began to pad into the tunnel he came from. The tom didn't like having to carry a bloody cat, but he had to do so if he wanted to rescue her. Indeed, he did need to save her for his own personal reasons. He couldn't exactly explain them though, even to himself, as he made slow progress through the tunnels, closer to the sound of the water.

"Look at what you have done, my dear," he tsked under his breath, his head turning slightly as he padded into another small chamber. He couldn't see her face, but her whiskers were tickling his neck fur. Also, her warm (yet slightly fowl) breath was wreathing his muzzle. Crinkling his nose, he turned his head back to look ahead when his passenger started to heave in her coma. Nothing came out, but he could sense that fresh blood was seeping out of her jaws.

Concerned for a moment, he listened attentively in the darkness for her breathing; it was still coming and going. He feared that whatever was in her throat would stifle her. So far, it wasn't.

He turned right into another tunnel. The path curved as if it were about to meet itself again at the same junction, but it sharply dropped to go further down into the earth and forward. He followed without a worry, knowing this is where he had ventured before to reach the she-cat. Even though the stones were slightly wet from flooding, his scent still lingered to show him the way.

As he kept padding down the long and winding tunnels, he continued to talk softly to his blacked-out company.

"You have gotten yourself so far from where you were," he chided, ears perking up casually at the welcoming sound of the calm, underground stream. He neared the water when he entered yet another chamber, except this one was much bigger than the others. The tom could tell from the temperature that the ceiling was higher up and that the walls were further spaced. For him, this was a check mark.

"They think you've died," he stated flatly. While there was humor in it, for she most certainly was not dead, it was still serious. Once she got out she would want to go back, or maybe at first or later. The Clans, even though he found no merit in them, were her home. He knew very well that her life revolved around them. Or, it _once_ did. Knowing her predicament, he only hoped that things would go as he planned. ... They usually did, some way or another.

Stopping at the stream, he dipped his muzzle to the slow current. He did not drink, though. Smelling the liquid, he picked up the scents of different metals and components; all earthy, natural elements. They came from being washed off cave walls, but he could also detect a few scents that only could be found in the above world... Such as topsoil and plant material.

This was a good sign that he had reached the correct stream that would lead him through the correct chambers. Those caverns would lead him to the tunnel that exited to the outside world. Elated that he had been able to retrace his steps, he turned so he was walking by the stream. Padding along, he quickly reached a wall and slipped into a serpentine tunnel.

Moving ahead in silence for a bit, he eventually did start to speak again.

"Did you try to kill yourself? Or did you only intend to run around until you found a path that would lead you to some new place?" he asked the she-cat. She was still out cold, but he continued to talk on as if she could hear him. He was really only musing to himself.

"You are a complex creature," he added softly, curiously, thinking about the being he had on his back. "Yet you are so obvious."

He was frustrated. He was disgruntled with himself for many reasons, but mostly for how he handled his dealings with the she-cat in the past. While he still thinks his behavior and actions were necessary and appropriate, he dislikes the trauma and suffering he gave her. Although, more than himself, he was angered with the she-cat he was saving.

She had done this to herself. She committed murder and snapped; she forsaked her siblings; she did a very rash thing and made an announcement that flipped her Clan on its axis. He was not mad at her for these things though. He was upset over what she decided would be a good solution to it all.

Following another turn that went gradually left, he settled on listening to her breathing to keep away the silence. It contented him for some time as the path he took dipped down and then sharply started to ascend after a pace of two. Amber eyes trailing up the slope, he began the rough half-climb. It wasn't too difficult except for the fact that he had a weight on his shoulders.

After some carefully calculated steps, he reached the peak of the tunnel as it again went level. This landed him in another cavern, except this one was smaller than the last. He could hear the gurgling of the stream to his left, and it reassured him. Although yes, it was still pitch black, the simple sounds of the water and the she-cat's breathing kept him calm and confident.

"Almost there," he meowed to himself.

Allowing himself to pick up the pace, he padded faster than before. He could actually smell the air from outside from where he was. He hadn't minded being underground as much as some would have been, but the idea of being back out was too enticing and relieving to disregard.

Disappearing into a wide tunnel's mouth, he took another turn that ended with him padding beside the stream that's contents flowed steadily into the beyond behind him. Stopping, he lifted his chin to greet the exit that he knew was there. And yes, it was; it was brilliant.

When he had departed into the labyrinth, it had been late at night, rain pouring steadily and roughly onto the forest. But now sunlight was pouring into the cave from the entrance. The light bathed the sleek, rock walls in white, casting reflections that twinkled in his amber eyes. Taking in a deep breath of the fresh air, he nonchalantly padded toward the welcoming light.

He stepped out of the recesses of the cave, his fur shining nicely in the lovely morning. Paws making squishing noises as he proceeded into the wet grass, he lifted his head to the sky. Through a hole in the canopy above he saw the yellow ball in the sky; its brightness left flares in his eyes.

"... Look, it's the sun," he meowed, tilting his head sideways to look at the she-cat. Her black fur was glistening, and she looked very worn and tired. Blood also stained her muzzle and paws from her fight to survive in the tunnels.

He licked her ear gently, holding back a sigh. He knew he had to get her to a place that was safe and outside of her Clan's territory (he could smell their musky scent from where he was). Shrugging his shoulders to make sure she was settled on his back, he began to pad into the undergrowth. The tortoiseshell knew just the place to camp, and he was ready to travel to it.

_I am ready for the rehabilitation_.

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**A/N: **You could say that this is a sort of prologue for _Rehabilitation_. xD

It kind of explains Sol's presense and how he rescued Hollyleaf. I happen to think that that is pretty nifty. IT COULD HAPPEN, TOO. YOU NEVER KNOW. I would never write anything that far-fetched ;;

Well, this is another drabble. (Woah! Two in a row!) If you must inquire as to why this is not going with _Rehabilitation_, it is because it is not a necessary piece. I just thought I'd type it up for the pleasure of doing so ;3

I hope you can enjoy this un-beta'd work of writing. I know it's short-ish and that it's kind of fail. SORRY. But please review! I love the feedback 3


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